<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="" class="head">Sonnet</h1><h1 align="" class="head">On a Picture by R. Macaulay<br xmlns:exist="http://exist.sourceforge.net/NS/exist" xmlns:html="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40"/> STEVENSON</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line">O GIFTED Hunter, would thy skill were mine!</p><p class="line">How could'st thou snare the summer's passing voice?</p><p class="line">How could'st thou choose the choicest from the choice</p><p class="line">Of dulcet summer melodies, combine</p><p class="line">And mould them into this--a thing sublime,</p><p class="line">Rich in the luxury of loveliness?</p><p class="line">What hallowed musing did thy heart impress?</p><p class="line">Surely the thought was God's, thy brush divine.</p><p class="line">Oh! I could feel those gentle Zephyrs blow</p><p class="line">And see thy river mirroring the sun;</p><p class="line">And I could scent the honeyed flowers that grow</p><p class="line">Empurpling that meadow every one;</p><p class="line">And somewhere yonder in the fading sky</p><p class="line">I gain the secret of Eternity!</p></div><p>1910.</p></body></html> · Great War